Kiss of the Cornfield
by RowenaIsolde
Summary: She had no indication he loved her. A kiss, embraces, even just touching was forbidden. He rarely spoke to her, for he was never one of many words. How was she to know?
1. Bitter and Childless

**Kiss of the Cornfield**

**Summary: She had no indication he loved her. A kiss, embraces, even just touching was forbidden. He rarely spoke to her, for he was never one of many words. How was she to know?**

**Disclaimer: This is based somewhat off the short story and the movie, with a little tweaking on my part to make it more interesting. Enjoy. I own no characters, settings, etc except the ones originally created by me. I hope as the knowledgeable readers that you are you can differentiate between canon and OC.**

**Chapter 1: Bitter and Childless**

Dawn had approached, the luminescent moon fading away into the blue sky. The cornfields began to blaze like yellow stars beneath the morning sun. Rachel opened her eyes, sucking in the familiar sight of morning and the even more memorable scent of the barn. The motherless children slept soundly, one of them cradled into her arms.

The younger children, often left on the floors of the barn had been given to Rachel. She was the youngest caregiver, only fourteen years old and by default given the babies whose mothers had died in childbirth or had turned 19 when their own child was still an infant. Naomi and Sarah, the two oldest mothers slept soundly in the lofts above. Rachel carefully stood up, the small baby still cradled in her arms. She stopped suddenly as the child's eyes crept open. They gray eyes stared at her momentarily and shut. Rachel lowered her arms to the masses of hay, laying the newborn on top.

"Shhh," she whispered, whispering it to sleep. Rachel felt the urge to sing and fought the compulsion despairingly. The baby reminded her so much of what she was to never have. At 14 she was considered well past her prime for most girls were married at 13 and mothers by fourteen. Here she was, 14 with no child to call her own.

Rachel took a seat on the powdery ground, sinking in the silence around her. No one was awake, the orange sun still streaking the sky with its morning rays. Her eyes were tired, still weary from the day before. She fell back against the Earth, letting her body soak in the sun. The autumn sun was her favorite for it was neither searing hot nor ice cold. The temperature was perfect, the soil an everlasting mattress against her exhausted back. The corn seemed to stretch high into the sky, almost touching the clouds.

She closed her eyes, falling into a dreamlike but conscious state. The clouds began puff and take shape forming the soft round head of a baby. A tear dripped down her cheek. The joyous mothers invaded her dream, cradling their own children in front of her. It taunted her endlessly, reminding her of what she as well as Naomi and Sarah would never have. A child that was only theirs, to hold and love until the inevitable 19th year.

Perhaps it would be easier for Rachel? She would leave behind no child; she wouldn't let it suffer the heartbreak of loss of the father, a man she would never see and herself, the doomed mother. She remembered the summer of 1960. Rachel, then called Donna Stigman was barely two years old when her mother had been sacrificed. She cried for weeks on end, not understanding any of it, refusing to even be called Rachel. Then Mary Wells came.

Mary was an angel in Rachel's eyes, the very reason she'd become a caregiver and priestess. Mary raised her, helped her adjust and soon became the mother Rachel had forgotten. Even six years after her death the vivid memory of Mary remained inside her. Her smile, her patience that had helped Rachel become a true believer. Mary was her mother and not Mrs. Stigman.

Perhaps it had been Mary's destiny. She had never been chosen to wed any of the boys, newly fifteen and therefore had no children. Had _he _intended Mary to become the true unifier of those of the corn? Rachel whispered a prayer for Mary, hoping to soon see her smile one day.

"Rachel?" asked a voice. Rachel jerked up, spinning her head to see its source. It was Naomi. Rachel rushed up, dusting the dirt off her skirt.

"Sorry, I wandered off," she replied quickly. Naomi's eyes were filled with bitterness, a hatred that only came once a year during the 2nd Sunday of July. Today. It was the day when _he _would choose the wife for one of the boys old enough. All the women unmarried were required to attend, despite the little hope the older ones had. Naomi was one those. She was sixteen; a year passed the age when the girls had any hope. If _He _had not chosen you by fifteen years of age, your destiny would lay elsewhere.

"Get to work!" Naomi barked. Rachel flinched at the sound of her exasperated voice. "The barn needs to be cleaned, the young ones need to be fed and you sit here as if there is nothing to be done!" she screeched.

"Yes," answered Rachel, escaping to the inside of the barn. Naomi was not one to cross when she was angry. Her blood would boil and her heart would cry out over the simplest of things.

Sarah was climbing down the wooden ladder of the loft, joyful at the morning. Like Naomi she was sixteen but she differed from Naomi in so many ways. She was content with no husband, all the happy to care for others. Sarah was seemed to have no care for the men; only the children were her concern. The only question in Rachel's mind was how. In what way was it possible for Naomi, practically the sister of Sarah to be so sour and Sarah so merry?

"Morning Rachel," she said, jumping off the ladder.

Rachel didn't respond, too consumed in getting to work. Naomi became even angrier when things weren't done to her specifications. She walked into one of the old horse stalls, its sides ripped off to form a lengthy kitchen.

Since no electricity worked in the barns, Rachel had to be somewhat old fashioned. She shoved metal stakes in the ground, making sure they stayed erect. On them, she hung several metallic pots all rescued from the kitchens of the adults. The hay was placed under them along with several pieces of wood the younger children had found. Rachel lit crude matches, handmade by the boys and tossed them into the hay.

"Sarah!" she yelled from the stalls, awaiting the food supply for her to cook.


	2. Problems

**Chapter 2: Problems**

**A/N: Time to answer some reviewer questions. **

**This story is set in 1973, approximately three years before Vicky and Burt making it pre-Isaac. In the book before Isaac was a seer named David. In this story Isaac is about five to six years old. **

Besides the workers of the corn was a different breed of corn children. The sentries. Once each boy turned thirteen he became a sentry, a soldier for the corn. They were tall, muscular brutes with not a glimmer of mercy in their eyes. They prevented escape and prevented Outlanders from running deep into the corn boundaries. They had spilled more blood than any other child. Day and night they guarded the cornfields. Escape was a death sentence. Anyone caught in the cornfields was killed instantly. Before you could even manage a mile inside the yellow maze your blood decorated the cornstalks. Their knives were the large, salvaged from the kitchens nearly ten years ago. The knives were sacred, the very ones used in the massacre. The silvery blades were brown, stained from years of blood left unwashed. All of them were frightening boys, each with their own signature cut. The most feared of these "soldiers" was Malachi Boardman.

Even as one of the youngest he was perhaps the most bloodthirsty. Barely a gasp could escape their lips as his blade sliced open their throats. His knife was a shining dagger, cleaned and sharpened. The stench of blood had been wiped from his knife, leaving him nonexistent to his victims. His orange hair was tied back under a yellow straw hat and his overalls were a washed out green. It was the uniform of the sentries, specifically chosen to blend in from escapees or outsiders. Wearing the uniform was about as close to tradition as Malachi went. Even being raised by Amos Deigan, the founder of their religion he'd never taken a moment to honor their traditions.

The redhead removed the straw hat, letting the wind pick up his hair. Today was the second Sunday of July, perhaps now the worst day of his life. The day he was to be married. Not every sentry was married once he turned fifteen but it was almost unheard of. He could see it in the other soldiers eyes that they wanted him married, a small way of instilling some humanity in him. The notion made Malachi laugh. As if some girl was going to make him less murderous. That wasn't the worst of his problems; he'd have to provide the corn a child. Malachi couldn't just marry the poor girl and be done with it; no he'd have to fornicate with her. Not only that he'd have to be with her until a pregnancy was assured. He actually pitied his wife, stuck to be with him night after night. A grin stretched across his face as he imagined her horror.

"Never thought marriage could make you happy." Footsteps rustled through the corn, a seventeen-year-old boy emerging past it. He was Gabriel an older, married sentry and perhaps the only person Malachi gave the slightest bit of care to. Gabriel sealed his brown knife in his overall pocket and sat on the ground. Malachi remained standing, replacing his straw hat to leave. His murderous mask returned. "I take it marriage hasn't made you joyful. Didn't make me either at the time," he told Malachi.

"Amusing," replied Malachi sardonically. "Did you tell Eve that?" Gabriel chuckled, the picture of his beautiful golden-haired wife in his head. Malachi rolled his eyes as his best friend turned into a giggling idiot. "See, she's turned you into an imbecile!" hissed Malachi. Gabriel could only smile, his gaze turning upwards to the sky.

"I don't think it's entirely Eve's fault," argued Gabriel.

"I forgot about that boy of yours," hissed Malachi. Gabriel stood up, removing his own straw hat.

"Malachi, coming home to Eve and Samuel is the event I look forward to each day. It's what every sentry—"

"Not me!" interrupted Malachi. Gabriel rolled his eyes, somewhat frustrated at his friend. The corn began to rustle, each boy becoming instantly alert. Heavy footsteps stampeded in their direction. Malachi disappeared into the corn, raising his blade. Gabriel stepped back in the opposite direction, pulling his own knife out. Gabriel slipped through the corn until he was next to his friend. Two adults came into view both armed with long rifles.

"Jim, this is nonsense. Demon children please," said the fatter one.

"I tell you Bill there's something in these fields and I'm determined to find out about it!" barked the gray-haired man. "Haven't you ever wondered what happened to Lucy French?"

"The girl ran away Jim, wouldn't be surprised with her drunkard of a father," hissed back the man named Bill. "Shame though, she had the prettiest golden hair, unmatched by any—"

"Stop rambling Bill!" snapped Jim. Malachi turned to his friend, a plan worked out in his head. He was shocked to find Gabriel frozen solid. Malachi poked his knife into Gabriel breaking the trance on the boy. Malachi and Gabriel tiptoed back into the corn, circling around to the back of the men. Malachi was quicker instantly wrapping his arms around the man called Jim and slicing his neck open. The man fell to the ground, his numb fingers pressing the trigger of his rifle. A bullet pierced through Gabriel's lower arm Malachi ripped his knife out of the man stabbing the fat man in the chest. Gabriel placed his knife in his other hand and stabbed the dying men, guaranteeing their deaths.

"Holy shit!" cried Bill, silenced by Gabriel's knife. The men lay dead and the boy fell back, ripping his sleeve off to stop the bleeding. Malachi rolled up his sleeve, wiping the blood off his knife and on his arm. He pocketed his knife and kneeled down to help Gabriel. Malachi examined the wound, wrapping it carefully with the torn sleeve.

"Eve won't appreciate this," laughed Gabriel. Malachi ignored the humor pulling the boy to his feet. The corn murmured once more, three sentries materialized out the yellow haze.

"We heard gunshots," said the youngest sentry. Malachi took no notice of them, picking up his and Gabriel's knives. The middle sentry got the hint.

"Return to our fields boys, Malachi has this under control," announced the middle sentry. The three boys disappeared as quickly as they'd appeared. Gabriel evaporated into the fields, leaving Malachi alone. He stepped over the blood, kicking the bodies in deeper into the corn, whispering a prayer as he did so. The redhead pulled corn from its stalk, shucking rapidly. He took a bite, spitting the kernels onto the bodies. Malachi whispered a second prayer. He stepped away from the bodies, his eyes turning to the sun. It was high, newly raised in the sky. It was soon time for the marriage ceremonies. Malachi took a second bite of the corn, dropping it on the ground and walking off. His own Hell was about to begin.


	3. Kidnapped

Chapter 3: Kidnapped

**A/N: 2****nd**** reviewer question. Rachel is not my own creation as I took her from the movie. **

**This chapter is dedicated to LazyChestnut for her wonderful Mary Sue parody**

Dishes clashed into the large bucket. Breakfast was over and the smaller children began washing the wooden plates. Sarah hurried across the barn, picking up spare utensils and chucking them with the plates. Water spattered out of the bucket. Children giggled as the soapy water hit their faces. Rachel hopped down, her dress soaked by the spilling water. With a dry rag she wiped off their faces hastily, hoping Naomi hadn't seen.

"Be careful!" she reprimanded them as gently as she could. "You want Naomi to see?" Their smiles disappeared as they continued their duties. Rachel rolled up her sleeves, catching each dish Sarah threw and placing it in the bucket. Sarah wiped her forehead throwing the final dish at Rachel.

"Sarah! Get the girls ready," roared Naomi from nowhere.

"Yes," she said. Sarah opened the barn door, shivering at the odd chill. "Girls!" she shouted. Five girls hurried in, each taking a seat on the barn floor. Sarah sat behind the shortest one and began twisting her hair into an elegant plait. Rachel and Naomi sat down behind two other girls braiding and twisting their hair into beautiful styles. Sarah finished the girl, taking on another. Naomi stopped the style, letting Rachel and Sarah finish up. The barn door opened and Naomi vanished through it. Rachel leaned over next to Sarah so she was within earshot.

"I'm not going," she whispered. Sarah gasped, staring at Rachel in disbelief. "You're staring at me like I have six heads," teased Rachel.

"You're crazy!" exclaimed Sarah. The whole barn door turned to the shocked Sarah. Rachel turned back to the braiding, twisting the girl's hair into an elaborate bun. Sarah leaned in to Rachel, putting her lips an inch away from her ear. "Are you insane?" she muttered. The girl in front of Rachel got up and in her spot was another girl. Rachel began to work, rapidly wrapping the girl's hair around. Sarah pulled away, finishing the last girl. Rachel waited a few moments and dipped her head near Sarah's.

"No," she whispered back. Sarah whipped her head around, glaring at Rachel. "What?" asked Rachel. Sarah wiped her hands on her dressing picking herself up off the ground.

"Naomi will murder you if she finds out," hissed Sarah, taking a second glance to avoid eavesdropping.

"I think she might join me next year," giggled Rachel.

"That is if David doesn't find out. He'll be angry. Every unmarried girl is to attend despite age!" chastised Sarah. Rachel rolled her eyes.

"What does he care if a surrogate mother doesn't attend the ceremonies? It's not like I'm the bride," replied Rachel.

"You could be!" she snapped. Rachel cackled.

"I'm fourteen—"

"And still eligible," Sarah finished. The barn door slammed open with Naomi at its arch.

"Enough chatter, lets go!" Everyone exited the barn door with Sarah and Rachel left last. Sarah watched her friend lie down on the ground and shut her eyes. Sarah left the barn, the door slamming behind her. Rachel was left alone in utter silence.

"Now that's more like it," she whispered, dozing off.

The barn creaked and Rachel's eyes opened abruptly. The door was shut, the same way it had been when everyone had left. Rachel got up, dusting the hay and dirt of her dress. She walked over to the barn door, opening just enough to where she could see the outside. The sun was still high as ever. They weren't supposed to return for another hour she estimated. Rachel closed the door, the blackness of the barn making her even more tired. The boards creaked.

Rachel was worried. Someone was there, someone who shouldn't be. Her breath began to speed up as she frantically searched around the room in total darkness. She couldn't see a thing and her body wouldn't budge from its spot. A large hand clasped tightly against her lips, her gasps changing into yelps. An arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her against the kidnapper's chest. His arm dropped, shackling both her wrists in his free hand. Her breath stopped in utter shock as his hand dropped from her mouth and gripped her jaw tilting it back to face him. She couldn't see his face in the darkness yet Rachel could feel his breath against her skin. A pair of lips covered hers and a whimper slipped through her. He was rough and pushed her away from him, ending the kiss.

A tear slipped down her cheek. The assailant had made a whore out of her. Kissing, even against one's will was forbidden between those unmarried. She prayed for someone to help her, praying even harder that they'd let that detail slide. Hands now bound her own. Rachel was shaking, her teeth chattering.

"P-please—" she stuttered barely able to get the words out. A hand released from her wrists, loosening the grip and covered her mouth once more. Rachel kicked her legs back into him. He shoved her away sending her flying to the ground. Quickly she picked herself up running to the door. A hard body slammed against her knocking her to the ground. Her head smashed against the wall and she became dizzy. The attacker swooped her into his arms. Rachel's head kept spinning around too confused and too sore to contemplate anything. Her head dropped back and she fell into unconsciousness.


	4. Bride To Be

**Chapter 4: Bride To Be.**

**A/N: Wow…people actually read this…I feel so loved. I love all my readers and apologize for being on hiatus…I write when I'm up to it. Anybody excited for the new COTC movie coming up next year?**

A large pain woke Rachel up. Her head was throbbing uncontrollably, a large bruise developing under her hair. The whole barn incident replayed in her head, her breath turning to gasps. The moment she tried to move she felt the familiar large hands still holding their grip on her. She reacted quickly, desperately trying to release herself from the kidnapper's grip.

"Cut it out!" barked her kidnapper. Rachel kicked even harder. She didn't care where he dropped her as long as she could escape. Crazily she hit him in the chest, the sun blocking her eyes from a clear target. Rachel heard him groan before she felt his hands let go and the hard grass meet her body. She screamed, scrambling to get to her feet. A hand grabbed her wrist once more.

"LISTEN!" he yelled. "Cooperate and I'll let you walk!" Rachel choked back a scream as her captor came into clear view.

"M-M-Malachi?"

"No shit!" he snapped. "But of course you'd know that had you attended the bloody ceremony." He yanked her forcefully to her feet, dragging her behind him. Her breath started to quicken, unable to comprehend his words. Malachi laughed. Rachel stepped back, madness covering his face. She'd heard rumors but never expected them to be true.

"You know? I knew my bride wouldn't exactly welcome me with open arms but to run away from me. Priceless," he roared, the sadistic amusement lingering in his words.

"Your what?" she shrieked. He turned away, dragging her behind him. Malachi didn't bother answering and she was glad he didn't. Rachel knew the answer. She should've felt relief but instead fear spread throughout her entire body. His menacing eyes glared at her.

"You heard me, now move! I've got to get back to work," he barked. Rachel hurried her pace, following him to what she assumed would be his home. A row of houses scattered the abandoned street. Doors were shut tight and windows sealed with a black tar. The place was gloomy looking, much different from the joyous place Rachel remembered. Remnants of the Revolution still remained, blood still stained the streets despite years of rain and Rachel could've sworn she saw a bone lying in the grass.

Malachi's arm gripped her tighter pulling even faster to one of the houses. The sight made her laugh, as it was the prettiest house on the block, not something she'd expect from her newfound husband. A blonde woman of about fourteen stood in the doorway, a small boy wrapped in her arms. A tall boy came out the door, waving a hand at Malachi. They smiled at the nerve-wracked Rachel but she glanced away, unsure of how to respond. She did not recognize either of them; her time in the barns had kept her isolated from socializing with anyone but the younger children.

Rachel could feel the redhead's tightened grip, pulling her even closer to the large house. She was amazed at how beautiful it was, tiny plants and a small garden in the front growing rapidly with such vigor. The cement driveway had been dug up, broken, and removed to sit a green patch of grass scattered with a child's toys. All of the houses had a similar appearance, a few mothers outside with their children. Cars had disappeared, all of them dumped into some of the old town buildings. Besides some of the oddities and giveaways, Gatlin would seem like a normal neighborhood to any passersby. Of course no stranger would live to tell the tale. Those that did live never uttered a word.

As the waving couple came into view Rachel felt a sense of security. As false at it was it was her only hope of enduring the Gatlin monster. An amused smirk broadened across her face. Malachi frowned in disapproval, yanking her closer toward the smiling couple.

Rachel looked up at the woman once more, a tiny child wrapped against her hip. Both mother and child matched impeccably. Their curling blonde hair meshed together as the tiny boy laid his head against his mother's shoulder. The father stood stolidly next to her, practically inches away. His eyes were cold-colored, his whole body stoic except for the minimal smile across his lips.

"Malachi!" cried the blonde, smiling warmly at Rachel. The redhead didn't move his head from the ground and walked at a faster pace. Malachi dragged her across the grass, the impressions deep from his angered strides. He stopped abruptly in front of the trio.

"Have fun with your new toy Eve. Gabe, we're leaving!" snapped Malachi. Without another word he turned around and walked off, leaving Rachel in the hands of these strangers. The boy named Gabe rolled his eyes and trotted after like a master following his dog.

"I'm Eve, Gabriel's wife, this is my son Samuel," greeted the mother.

Rachel, his...wife," she replied, a persistent repugnance in her voice.

"He doesn't bite," chuckled Eve.

"Mama!" cried the little boy, his stomach noticeably growling. Eve's laugh increased and she patted her son on top of his head.

"Come inside, David was supposed to come by and give you the marriage laws speech but he's busy, like all seers I assume. So I'll have to do." The elegant blonde turned around, the boy still against her hip, and walked inside the suburban house. Rachel walked in timidly behind.

"Now the upstairs bedroom is where Malachi sleeps, first door up the stairs. Gabriel and I are in the old master bedroom down here," Eve said, chattering away incoherently.

The place was unlike Rachel had ever seen. The walls were a sharp white and the carpets a thick, lush gray all pieced together harmoniously. The entrance hallway was wide, a thin, threadbare rug stretching across its entire length. Two sets of French doors were laid against opposing walls, a nursery on one side and an empty room with an old bookshelf inside the other.

"That's my room," said Samuel proudly, pointing to the nursery. Compared to the barns Rachel had become accustomed to, this tiny and almost barren nursery seemed like a child's heaven.

"Gabriel and I occupy the downstairs rooms but share the kitchen for the entire household. Let me take you up the stairs," suggested Eve. She patted the boy's head once more and set him on the ground. The little tyke took off at lightning speed into the kitchen for a small meal. Eve walked up the steps, her feet making barely a whisper. Rachel obediently marched behind her, not wanting to lose sight of the woman. Eve opened the door right in front of the grand, curving staircase.

The room was perhaps the most barren of all rooms she had shown Rachel. No lamps or even candles were in the room. The only source of light was a single window on the left side of the room. A bed was pushed against the back wall with the bare amount of pillows and blankets neatly folded at its foot. A lone, stiff chair sat beside the bed practically etched into that side of the wall. Next to the main door were two more doors whitewashed doors.

"This is Malachi's room. He normally sleeps on the chair to the right there but with you Gabriel put in a bed the neighbors gave us. The doors over there lead to the bathroom and secondary bedroom." An eerie silence crept over the two women making the situation was awkward for both.

"Umm…that talk?" asked Rachel, hoping to invoke conversation.

"Yes, the laws of marriage, you've yet to hear them I understand," laughed Eve.

"Go on," Rachel replied, ready to hear the worst of it.

"Marriage is a sacred thing according to our laws. It is an authorization to procreate and an agreement for a relationship. Public physical displays of affection are generally forbidden or considered taboo. The only allowed physical affection is the nuptial kiss and what goes on behind the locked door of a bedroom. Break these laws and its death for both parties involved," Eve told Rachel.

"Did you memorize David's speech?" teased Rachel. Eve laughed frantically and admitted her deceit.

"Yes, I didn't know any other way to put it," answered Eve, blushing. For the first time since Malachi had ripped her from her barns, Rachel laughed.


End file.
